The shrill sound of the doorbell raised goosebumps on my arms. Reluctantly, I peeled myself off the warm embrace of my soft blankets and bed. Feeling none to utter a sound to procrastinate, I walked towards the main wooden door to open it.

          “Seriously Mingyu, bring your keys next time. If it’s not for your promise to cook me the sumptuous meal you vouched for, I would’ve—“

          I paused in my words when I realised that the person behind the door was not my brother. It was someone whom I previously would have jumped in joy at the sight of; someone whom I have come to loathe – Kim ing Jongin. Anger surged through my veins at the sight of him. My fists balled up and I gritted my teeth, livid. With what was left of energy in me, I pushed the door forward to slam it in front of his face. 

          “Wait!” Jongin exclaimed, pushing the door towards me to prevent me from closing it. For someone who had more strength than me, it made my efforts futile. I glowered at him in utmost resentment – and not to mention, utter disappointment.

          “What the do you want?” I growled, hot tears stinging my eyes. “Have you not humiliated me enough? Are you here to mock at how silly I am, believing that our fifteen years of friendship actually meant something?”

          I witnessed him wincing at my words, taken back by my outburst of profanities. Blasphemous language with obscene words was always banned from my mental dictionary. I never used vulgarities, but at the sight of Jongin, I could not help it. I was livid. He brought this side of me out, and he reduced me to an angry, helpless and devastated woman - with emotions I would never succumb to experience and suffer from.

          “I just wanted to talk,” Jongin muttered sheepishly, looking into my eyes blatantly as if he did nothing wrong. “To my best friend.”

          I cringed when our eyes met. I instantly glanced away from those dark brown orbs that I previously adored. I could not stand peering into the same pair of eyes that betrayed me.

          “We,” I laughed without humour, then scowling at his use of words, “were best friends. We have absolutely nothing to talk about. I'm afraid that this might not be the unit number your best friend resides in.”

          “N-No,” Jongin shook his head weakly, still peering his eyes into mine. This time, I observed a degree of desperation.

          He appeared so vulnerable and terrified of my cold demeanor towards him that I almost believed it. Biting his bottom lip, he scrutinized my stoic expression with fear on his face. It was an emotion he portrays only when he was afraid of losing something. And I should know, for I have witnessed it first-hand when his mother left him at the age of nine.

          “D-Don’t do this, Haera. I came to apologise to you, I’m sorry. I really can't live without this friendship that I cherished a lot,” he uttered softly, voice shaking.

          I felt my heart soften a little at his portrayal of vulnerability. It felt as if the man standing before me was the Jongin I knew since we were three, not the one Jongin who betrays his best friend for a crush. 

          He betrayed you, remember? Twice. You're giving him to him now, because you feel sorry for making him feel like this. But who is going to feel sorry for everything you went through because of him? Did he?. An inner voice whispered, eschewing all thoughts from forgiving him again. With that, I got to my senses. 

          “Sorry?” I ridiculed as I scrutinized him in disbelief. I shook